A World with No More Night
by Glaciem Arcus
Summary: If a kind woman met Erik while he was still a child in the Gypsy camp, would things still turn out the way they did?
1. Chapter 1

The Devil's Child. The words loomed over their heads as she was pulled into the tent by her friend. The Gypsy fair was not something she wanted to go to. It was only at the persuasion of an eager Pier that she was here in the first place. Everything here was unnatural and cruel. The last thing she wanted to do was encourage them with her own coin.

The inside of the tent was dark. People were pressed in all around and calling out cruelly at whatever was going on in the middle. The stench of cheap ale and mould assaulted her and she was almost gagging within the first minute. The filthy crowd parted slightly and she was able to glance at the main attraction in the centre. A large iron cage greeted her and as she glanced at the creature inside and her heart froze. A young child, no more than eleven, was cowering, filthy, with an old sack over his head and a rag doll as his only comfort. His back was laced with cruel scars, some looking very raw and angry, as if he only received them earlier this very day. The crowed continued its jeering as a large, bearded Gypsy entered the cage. The mystery of his scars were soon revealed as the woman saw the Gypsy kick the child to the side and raise a large, knobbed stick above his head. With his other hand, the brute tore off the sack covering the child's head. Yet the woman saw nothing. She had turned away as the sickening thud sounded and the pained cries of the poor boy was drowned by the thrill of the audience. She turned to her friend who wore a look of absolute horror on his face as his hands curled into fists. The woman placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked to her with anguish. The crowed continued to yell as the onslaught continued and dropped coins for the disgusting man to collect. Pier tugged on his friend's arm to leave but she refused to go. Her mind was made up and she was driven by determination. Soon, one by one, everyone left, until Pier and the woman were the only spectators left. She turned to her friend

"Wait in the carriage, I shall be there shortly"

Pier looked at her strangely before he nodded and made his way out. She turned back to the cage. The man was on his knees counting his coin and licking his lips in a revolting display as the child remained cowering in the corner.

"Sir.' The man jolted upright and stowed the coin into his purse as the woman's voice carried over to him. His gaze swooped around the tent to find the source and his glare finally landed on the lone woman. He sneered and called out in a rough, thick voice;

"Clear off sweetheart, viewing is over. Come back tomorrow if you want a look at the freak again."

She felt her stomach clench in fury at the man's statement. She squared her shoulders and marched forward, extending five coins.

"I request a private viewing"

The man glared at her hand, but his yellowing eyes glinted greedily at the money. He snatched the gold and jerked his thumb behind him at the still shuddering, bruised boy.

"You got ten minutes lady,' he slurred before walking out of the tent, leaving her alone with the child.

As soon as he left she rushed forward and fell to her knees before the bars so she was near level with the boy. The filthy sack was on the other side of the cage where the owner had tossed it in his rampage, but his head was low, hiding everything in shadows. He was shaking uncontrollably from the silent sobs wracking his body and her heart ached once more as her eyes caught every mark on his back glaring in the dim light.

"You poor child. What kind of life have you known?" she kept her voice quiet so to not startle him. The child stiffened but remained silent.

"What is your name?" There was a brief pause before he looked up at her with surprise. She felt a course of shock as his face became exposed to her. His skin was paper thin and stretched over his whole face showing blue veins near his temple. His nose was missing, only a black hole sat where a nose should have grown. His eyes were slightly sunken in and seemed to glow gold. The woman's shock must have shown as he whimpered and slung his rake thin arms over his face. She took a deep breath and extend her hand to him. He flinched away from her touch as he felt her hand graze his over his cheek. The woman lowers her hand and frowns. Of course.

"Please. I would never hurt you."

His arms lowered slightly as he peeked at the woman.

"Do you have a name child?" She asked again. He lowered his skeletal arms slightly more again. His mouth opened several times before a slight whisper of a voice responded.

"E…Erik."

The woman felt a warm smile grow on her face as he spoke. His voice was melodious, soothing and sweet. A stark and beautifully welcome change to the horrors around them. She was struck wondering, just how anyone could harm him? Such a shy, fragile child.

"That is a wonderful name. Erik." His lips twitched in a small smile as she tested his name and she wondered how long it had been since anyone has said something like that to him.

"I am Amelia." She offered. Erik offered that small smile again.

"Would you let me clean your wounds?" she offered to him. Erik nodded slightly, somewhat cautiously, in response. Amelia beckoned him closer and he warily nudged nearer to her. She took her silk handkerchief from her bag and put it under a nearby tap before gently placing it on one of his multiple wounds. He flinched away and Amelia immediately apologised. After a moment he nodded, allowing her to continue. As she wiped away the layer of dirt from around the angry scratches, she hummed softly to him, and slowly began to feel him relax more and more.

"How often does this happen to you?" She eventually asked him, gently, making sure to keep eye contact to show him she was not afraid of his face.

"Every day" he mumbled "Javert makes sure there are at least four viewings each day."

Anger coursed through Amelia at his words that were spoken with such resignation and sorrow. How dare that man. Erik was as sweet and as innocent as any child she had met and it was clear he was absolutely terrified of this life. The cruelty that she had just witnessed with her own two eyes and, to her revulsion, had offered her own money for, was the true abomination, not the child. Amelia discarded the handkerchief and, once more, slipped her hand into her bag to pull out a large roll she had bought from one of the stalls earlier. She held it out to Erik and watched as his eyes grew large at the sight of the food. He gingerly took the bread from her but did not eat it.

"Thank you" he murmured. Amelia placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. She could sense her time was running out and she told him gently. His panic was instant and he collapsed into a tremor at her words.

"No! Please don't leave me here!" he cried, clinging onto Amelia's arm through the cage. She reached through the bars and pulled him into a hug. He buried his face into her chest as best as he could and cried while her fingers ran through his stray, dirty hair in an attempt to soothe him.

"You have been so brave my dear." She whispered to him as his tears soaked into her clothes. "All I ask it that you are brave for a little while longer." His shoulders shuddered at her words. "I will come back for you as soon as I can. I promise you." He wailed even harder into her dress at her words and Amelia held him tighter, tears threatening to spill down her face. Eventually, she pulled back to stare into his glowing eyes. She desperately needed him to understand.  
"I will not abandon you Erik." She whispered to him, watching as his face opened in hopeful wonder.

"One day more. That is all I ask of you." He nodded shakily and Amelia placed her hands on either side of his face. "I promise." She repeats. She pulled him into one final hug and rocked him gently, humming as she did. Eventually, she heard the man- Javert's- footsteps as he re-entered the tent and she pulled away. Erik slinked back to the corner of his cage and retrieved his sack, the sight making her long to comfort him once more. Before he pulled it over his head, his golden eyes glanced at Amelia. Uncertainty and fear was shining. She placed her hand over her heart and mouthed, once more, 'I promise you.'

She then turned and left with a heavy heart and her mind ablaze with fury and determination.


	2. Chapter 2

"James. You must help me. You are a member of the police force. It is your job to stop such cruelty." Amelia stood before her brother and glared at him as he sat, fidgeting behind his desk. She had come to his office the very first thing in the morning and had demanded to see him. The sad eyes of the poor child had plagued her all night and she was damned if she would let Erik live another day in that cruel cage.

"Would could I do, really. They're Gypsies."

"I wouldn't give a damn, James, if they were members of the bloody royal family. You march in there and take that child away from that revolting place or so help me I will take your precious gun and introduce you to the bayonet end." Ladylike demeanour be damned, she revelled in her brother's flinch that her words caused.

"Amelia, please. It's my job to uphold the law. Not-" he was cut off before he had a chance to finish.

"You joined this force because you wanted to help people. Remember that, dear brother?" she snapped, "and this child dearly needs our help. _Your_ help." James's eyes glanced down and he ruffled his sandy hair nervously.

He sighed and rested his head in his hands. Amelia knew she had won.

"Fine. But you must give me time. A week. If that." She could feel her heart clench at his words. She had promised Erik.

"Three days James. Or so help me God, I will march in there and take him from there myself."

James reluctantly nodded.

Surely, he'd been strong for so long, he could be strong for a few days more.

...

The hours that ticked by since her meeting with her brother were absolute torture for Amelia. The thought of Erik's hopeful face as she made her promise could not be put from her mind. Just how many more beatings would that poor child endure before he was safe? No amount of sewing, gardening or reading could shift the image for even a moment. Near three o'clock, a knock at her door rung through the house and moments later her maid, Alice, entered with a mournful Pierre in tow.

"Amelia," he stumbled in his Scottish lilt as he twirled his top hat in his hands nervously, "I am so sorry I made you go to such a place, I had heard many things, but never the depths of such cruelty-"

"Pierre, please," she said, effectively cutting his speech short. Amelia gestured for him to sit as Alice walked in, balancing a tray of tea and small cakes. There was silence between them after they thanked Alice and Amelia began pouring the tea. Only the slight sound of the spoon clinking on the china could be heard.

As she passed Pierre his cup, she allowed her hand to brush his in a comforting manor. He looked at her sharply, waiting for an explanation or any sort of acknowledgment of what they had witnessed the day before.

"Make no mistake Pierre; I loathed it. Every second of it." His eyes cast down at his friend's words and he nervously rubbed his copper, bearded cheek.

"But, If you had not brought me there, I would have never have known about that poor boy. I would never have been able to arrange for his safety with James."

Pierre's eyes softened and he nodded, allowing himself to relax.

The carriage ride home had been in complete silence as they both reflected on what they had witnessed. It was only until they were at her house that she muttered a single sentence,

"I will not abandon him like the rest of the world, Pierre."

"What will you do with the boy once he is safe?" he asked his friend, his brow crinkled in deep thought.

Amelia didn't even hesitate, "He shall be staying with me of course. I shall take care of him." She suddenly went much quieter and stared into her teacup. "I could not rest if I did not know what truly happened to him."

Pierre looked sharply at Amelia.

"But the neighbours, Amelia. Think of what they would say. You are not yet married and to take care of a child would hinder your chances of finding someone."

Amelia fixed her friend with a disappointed look.

"My dear friend, do you really think me so shallow that I would give a damn about the gossip those foul women spread?" She waited for her friend to stammer out a no before she continued.

"A child is in need Pierre. You saw how they treated him. And as for finding a husband, any man with a good heart would see that what I am doing is right. I could never accept a man who did not recognise that."

They sat in silence for several more minutes, pondering on their own feelings on the matter. Pierre broke the silence once more,

"What about James? Is he okay with this?"

Amelia nodded.

"And your aunt. You know she would never stand for this." They both grimaced at the image of her Aunt Margaret, whose sickly sweet voice spills out every bit of gossip and disdain that passed through her mind.

After the death of their parent's, both James and Amelia had been forced to rely on the support of their aunt in order to get by. They had lived in the family house together for several year and, since then, James had managed to secure a job, home and even a family. Amelia was left with the house and whatever money her aunt decided to supply to her. A descent amount. By all means, more than enough for herself, a maid, and a child to flourish with.

Amelia heaved a sigh. She had considered this. "I know. Knowing her, she will just cut off any support for me, and possibly for James' family too." Pierre gave a sympathetic nod and waited for Amelia to continue. "I suppose, I shall focus on that when the time comes."

"You've always been a stubborn one," he smirked.

"Would you have it any other way?"

Pierre shook his head at her response and smiled. He took her hand in his.

"If you require anything to help you, you need only ask me. I will be there." 

...

Another day passed in uneventful agony. Alice kept checking on her mistress throughout the day to see her waiting at the bay window for James to walk up and declare the plan in action. All effort to spark a conversation or entice her into some activity was met with a simple response before she resumed her scouting.

By the second day Amelia could not stand it any longer, her desire for the safety of that child was taking over every thought. She called out to Alice to fetch her coat and umbrella before she left.


	3. Chapter 3

Once again, Amelia found herself at the entrance of the Gypsy camp. Throngs of people were making their way to see the sights and gawk at the oddities on display while eerily, cheerful music seeped through the crowds. Steeling herself, Amelia walked through, making her way to where the Devil's Child sign loomed overhead. She ignored the fire breathers, the acrobats and the people twisting themselves into knots for a few coins. She had to get to Erik and reassure him he was not forgotten, one way or another, she was not leaving without him.

As she approached the lip of the tent she could see a thick rope barring the entrance. Any people around the sight payed it no mind, happy to take in the other sights and sounds. There was no one around to take money, indeed, there was no one around lining up to give money. The tent flap was opened slightly and there was no light coming from it. Looking around to make sure no one would notice, she slipped through and into the darkness. The sun from the outside was the only source of light and it cast a thin strip through the blackness. Squinting, and slowly creeping forward, Amelia quietly called out for Erik. There was no response of any sort.

Fearing the worst, she ran out of the camp to find someone that could tell her what was going on. Gathering her courage, Amelia approached one of the many campfires scattered around the site where several men and women were seated passing around a bottle and laughing. Amelia cleared her throat to get their attention causing a few of them to look up.

"Excuse me, what happened to that attraction?" she asked, gesturing over to the red tent behind her. One man looked up at her and snarled past his dirty teeth,

"Cleared off. The whole thing is closed."

Amelia's heart froze

"What happened?"

A Gypsy woman spoke up, "little monster escaped." Amelia felt the most curious mix of both anger and relief at the woman's statement and nodded before moving away from the fire. As soon as she was out of sight of the Gypsies she picked up her skirts and ran.

...

Hours. It had been hours since she had left the circus. The night had closed in, the lamps had been lit and the wind was rapidly picking up. Amelia was fiercely tugging her coat around her, fighting the urge to shiver. The moment she had left the camp, she called upon Pierre and practically begged him to help in her search. Now, they had decided to split up and search all areas surrounding the encampment, hoping for any sign or clue as to where the child was. Amelia felt she had searched most of the alleyways and nooks the area had to offer, all with nothing to show for it. She was tired and, as the streets became darker, becoming incredibly nervous. She found herself wishing, not for the first time, that she had thought to bring a knife. Just something to protect herself. This was not the most savoury part of town and she had nothing to defend herself with, but a stubborn umbrella that refused to close properly in the damned wind. Amelia knew it was time to turn in. _But tomorrow, I will try again. I must._

Suddenly, a gust of wind tore her umbrella from her grasp, tossing it several meters in front of her, before yet another dark alley. She huffed at her predicament and went to collect her item. Her footsteps echoed on the lonely road and as she stooped to pick it up, her head turned to take in the alley. It was unremarkable. No different to any other. The same eerie aura seeped out from it and the same dark objects were outlined by the streetlamp. One more. Just one more search before she went home. Restraining her umbrella finally, she warily held it before her and entered between the buildings.

She strained her eyes in the dim light as they took in the usual sights. Crates filled with empty bottles, piles of sodden, filthy rags, and overflowing bins all littered around the area. The stench assaulted her nose and she halted a moment to muster her resolve, and she pressed on. Her search confirmed her belief, truly, it was an unremarkable alley. Fighting against her dismay, she turned to face the exit. She would have left, she was only too happy to leave the space, but she stopped as her attention was drawn to the pile of sodden rags. Had it just shifted?

"Hello?" she called gently as she edged towards the clothing. This time she was sure, the pile shifted. She moved swiftly towards the heap and saw the form of a small figure… a child… buried amongst it. Her heart raced at the sight.

"Child. Are you alright?" she pressed.

The mass jerked upwards to look at Amelia and she flinched at the sudden movement. She allowed her eyes to adjust to the figure's face, only to find that all features were covered. Erik. The same hessian mask covering his face. She felt a smile grow and she moved to hold him. She became wearier as Erik flinched away from her embrace and curled, trembling in the corner of the mess.

"I…I killed him." He shuddered, his musical voice trembling as he spoke. She froze at his words, her arms uselessly, half-way reached for him.

"You weren't there." He continued as his arms went to cover his head, "I was so scared. He- He was going to…." He fell silent and buried his head further in his arms. Amelia fought to calm her heart as his words settled over her. She took a deep breath and regarded the boy before her. If it was even possible, he was even filthier than when she last saw him and she knew that should she see his body properly, she would notice more fresh cuts and bruises. Erik began to shiver in the corner and that brought Amelia to her proper senses. She reached out and drew the boy close to her, allowing him to cling to her and weep once more.

"I'm sorry, my dear," she soothed, stroking his filthy hair. "I tried to find you sooner, truly."

"But I killed someone. What will happen to me now?" he wailed. Amelia drew back so she could look at the boy through the eye-holes harshly cut into the hessian sack.

"You, will stay with me Erik. I will take care of you. I will raise you." At her words, Erik cried even harder and mumbled words of thanks and happiness that was lost in the fabric of her dress.

It was several minutes before Erik drew back, his hessian mask soaked with his tears. Amelia smiled at him before rising and offering her hand.

"Let's go home, my dear."


End file.
